


we are damaged

by Anonymous



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Heathers Fusion, And Lots of It, Angst, BMC Canon But Make It Deadly, Based on Heathers, Chloe is Heather Chandler, Emotional Manipulation, Faked Suicide, Gun Violence, Happy ending???, Heathers Spoilers, I swear I like this ship guys, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Michael Mell Needs a Hug, Michael is Veronica, Minor Character Death, Murder, Out of Character Rich Goranski, Rich Goranski's Squip Being an Asshole, Rich is JD, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Why Did I Write This?, basically heathers but in bmc canon, i hate this a lot, im sorry, oh boy, squips lead to murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27002356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Michael thought his best friend abandoning him was the worst thing that could happen to his lifeWhen he had the blood of three of his classmates on his hands, he realized that it could get a whole lot worse—I’m not good at summaries, but this is the Heathers AU nobody asked for(please read the tags for the proper warnings that come with a Heathers AU!)
Relationships: Brooke Lohst & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Rich Goranski/Michael Mell
Kudos: 20
Collections: Anonymous





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warning(s): implied dubious consent and underage sex at the end (the dead girl walking scene would be here) 
> 
> Also, quick note: I’m not comparing Rich to JD, I just thought this was an interesting concept to write!
> 
> I’ve been writing this for months, so I’m posting it here as a sort of backup

Michael takes light steps through the halls of the school, drowning the world in music through his heavy white headphones. 

He feels great. Amazing, even! It’s not like his best friend just pushed him aside or anything.

No, his life is perfect. 

Maybe he’s being a little passive-aggressive, but he’s not out of place.

As he’s thinking to himself, Michael idly clenches his fist, his usual slushie missing from his hand. He didn’t have time to get one from 7-Eleven today, to his disappointment.

He settled on solely listening to music to relax.

“Hey, watch it!” A shrill voice hisses. Michael snaps out of his comfortable space and he realizes he’d bumped into Chloe Valentine.

“Shit.” He curses to himself. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-“

Chloe huffs. “I don’t need to hear it. Watch out next time, loser!” She says sharply, continuing her march down the hall.

Michael squirms uncomfortably for a few moments before settling to lean against the lockers and cautiously pull at his hoodie sleeves.

This week is turning out to be a fucking nightmare.

Between Jeremy acting like he doesn’t exist to being called a loser, he’s wondering if he’ll be able to stay in his room for the rest of the school year.

He groans, pressing his hands into his eyes in frustration and finally sets off towards his classroom dejectedly.

_Maybe my day’ll get better._

“I highly fuckin’ doubt it,” He mutters, snorting in spite of himself.

_“Michael!” A voice exclaimed, surprised. The boy in question snapped his head up, confused._

_Jeremy Heere stood before him, eyes wide._ _Michael winced, looking back down at his feet, attempting to walk away._

_“I’m so glad to see you!”_

_At that, Michael furrowed his brows and whirled around on his heel. “Excuse me? So you haven’t been avoiding me all day?” He hissed._

That moment was the worst part of his day. He had thought earlier was awful, but now this just solidified the fact that his life was just fucked.

After he’d snapped at Jeremy, he started acting weird. 

Like, when Michael is actually paying attention to him, he just leaves without saying a word?

God, the SQUIP can go to hell for all he cares. 

The rest of the day became a blur for him, just boring classes and lectures from teachers, and doing pointless classwork.

Finally, he was in his safe haven. 

_7-Eleven_ , of course.

Michael runs his fingers along the counter where the slushie machine resides.

His other hand circles along the bottom ring of the slushie cup on top of the stack.

Just as he clutches the cup into his hand, a voice cuts through the subtle sounds of the store. 

“Hey, are you gonna get that cup?”

Michael jumps, searching for the source of the voice. Rich Goranski stands behind him, raising his hands. “Hey, sorry! You just looked a little lost.” He says.

Michael narrows his eyes as he studies him. “Why are you talking to me right now?” He asks, fingers tapping lightly on the cup. 

“I don’t follow any rules on who to talk to,” Rich defends.

Quietly, he adds, “At least, they’re not in place right _now_.”

Michael hears him, but only barely. 

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, but Rich just shakes his head and claps his hands together. 

“So. Can I buy that for you?” He offers, referring to the slushie.

“Um. What?” Michael says. “Why?”

Rich chuckles, but it sounds forced. “Can’t I be nice for once?” Rich jokes, eyes darting to the side. 

He tenses up slightly, but Michael tries to ignore it.

“I mean, I guess so? But you’re never nice to me, Rich.”

Rich smiles. “I bet I’m not,” He admits. “I'm sorry, but I don’t remember your name?”

Michael bites his lip, sighing. “Michael. Mell.”

“Okay, _Michael_ ,” Rich says, reaching for the cups. “I’m buying this for you.” His hand rests on top of Michael’s.

Michael hums. “I can’t stop you, can I?” He asks.

Rich shakes his head. “Nope.” He smirks, grabbing the cup from the base and pulling it away from Michael’s hand. “Cherry or blueberry?” He asks.

“...Cherry.” Michael answers, pulling at his sleeves. _What the hell is happening?_

“Here,” Rich pushes the slushie cup into Michael’s chest, the other boy instinctively grabbing it.

“Take it up to the counter, I’ll pay for it. I’m already buying something anyway.” Rich holds up a few bags of Corn Nuts, grinning. 

Michael snorts. “Corn nuts?” He says. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, you know, there’s going to be a Halloween party.” Rich replies. “Why are you buying them now? Isn't Halloween weeks away?” Michael says, amused. 

“It's never too early.” Rich replies vaguely. 

“I guess not.” Michael’s lips upturn into a slight smile.

“So, are you gonna let me pay for that crap,” Rich gestures to the slushie. “Or not?”

Michael makes an indignant noise. “Slushies are _not_ crap! You’re such a dick.” He jokes. 

“And proud of it, baby!” Rich laughs. “Here, let me pay for it.” He says, grabbing at the cup. 

Michael hands it to him carefully and watches him walk up to the counter and pay for it, leaning over it as he waits.

After a moment, he returns with the slushie. “There. All paid for.” Rich says, extending the cup out to Michael as he walks away from the counter.

“Thank you.” Michael says cautiously, taking a sip of the drink.

“Hey, it’s no problem,” Rich says, suddenly twitching slightly. 

Michael frowns. “Um. You all right, Rich?” 

Rich mutters something to himself before replying to him. “Yep. For sure,” He says. “I, uh, hope you enjoy that.” Rich finishes, backing up towards the doors. 

Then he smirks and says, “Have fun freezing your brain, baby!”

Michael blinks for a moment, gripping his slushie cup as he watches Rich exit the store.

A snort comes from the cashier, as she leans on her hand. “That was certainly something, huh?” She says, amused.

Michael simply nods, confused as he quietly replies, “Yeah.. something.”

* * *

Michael lays sprawled on his basement floor, the interaction suddenly primary in his mind. It had been about a month ago, but it was kind of memorable. 

Like, Richard Goranski.. flirting. With him?

At least, he’s pretty sure it was flirting. It sure as hell seemed like it. 

Michael sighs, sitting up. “This sucks.” He mutters to himself.

Halloween party. Rich mentioned a Halloween party. Is Jeremy going to be there? Most likely.

“Why do I even care?” Michael scoffs to his empty basement, huffing. Jeremy hadn't even looked at him since that day.

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, pushing his glasses up.

So, the Halloween party is..

He looks over to his calendar, carefully reading the date. _October 31st._ It’s today. How perfect.

Michael considers crashing the party for a moment before dismissing the notion. What would that even achieve?

Absolutely fucking nothing, that’s what.

He’d be perfectly content staying alone getting stoned in his basement. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

...

After a good hour and a half of getting high in the basement, he decides to go to his ‘bedroom’.

He’s turned the basement of his house into his pseudo-bedroom, however, so this room serves as a guest bedroom more than anything. 

“This _sucks_ ,” Michael says, repeating his words from earlier in the night.

Suddenly, a _tap_ at the window breaks his thoughts.

“What the fuck.” Michael furrows his brows and cautiously approaches closer to the window, opening it.

He squints at the ground, seeing a figure. A rock suddenly shoots towards Michael, and he nearly gets hit by it, jolting out of the way. 

“Oh! Shit- Sorry, didn’t have control for a second..” A voice mutters, cutting through the silence. 

“Um.. what..” Michael cocks his head, leaning closer out the window to study the person. “.. _Rich_?” 

That’s weird. Michael hasn’t had any contact with him since 7-Eleven.

“Hey,” Rich smirks. “Uh.. how are you doin’?” 

Michael blinks a few times. He must be hallucinating right now or something.

“How.. did you know where I live?” Michael asks. That’s the first thought that passes his mind. 

“Oh.. just- you know, I just know?” Rich calls from the ground, unsure.

“Wh- uh, okay, whatever..” Michael dismisses, pushing his glasses up. “What are you even doing here?” 

“..I just wanted to see you.” Rich says, chuckling.

“Jesus Christ..” Michael mutters. “Hey! Aren’t you s’posed to be at that party?” 

He can hear Rich scoff. “That party fuckin’ blows,” Rich says, grinning. “I can have more fun here.” 

Um. “What..?” Michael flushes slightly.

“Yeah. Now, can you let me up? I promise you’ll have a good time.” 

“ _Rich_!” Michael hisses. “God— You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

A beat of silence holds for a moment.

“Maybe a little..” Rich mumbles. “You gonna let me in or not?” A tinge of desperation cuts through his tone, and Michael bites his lip. 

“Fine.” Reluctantly, he slips down to the front door and finds Rich standing at the side of the house.

"Come on," Michael snorts as Rich immediately rushes into the house.

“Fuck.. thanks for letting me in.” Rich says.

“Oh.. it’s no problem,” Michael says, tone uncertain as he closes the door. “After all, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt, would we?”

“Hey! Don’t tease, that’s my job.” Rich winks.

“Okay. You’re drunk.” Michael affirms. “We’re going down to my basement.” He gestures to the stairs.

“Whoa. Kinky.” Rich comments.

Michael doesn’t reply, ushering Rich down the stairs and into the room. 

“Okay, sit.” Michael says, pointing to his bed.

Rich looks behind him, wickedly grinning. “I’m not gonna lie, Mell. This is pretty hot.” He teases.

Michael snorts. “It is _not_ hot. I’m doing this for your own well-being.” He says. “If that’s _kinky_ , then-“

“Hey, you can’t decide what I'm into,” Rich cuts in. 

Michael steps towards the other boy, rolling his eyes. “Can you not flirt for like, two seconds?” 

Rich pretends to consider his question before smirking. “Nope, sorry.”

Michael scoffs. “Okay, well-“ He gets cut off when a gasp comes from Rich. 

“Shit, are you okay?” Michael asks, concerned. “Fuck- Yeah, of course.” Rich mutters, staring at the boy in front of him, distant. 

Then he blindly grabs onto Michael’s sweater. “I just need a distraction.” 

“From.. what?” Michael breathes.

“The SQUIP.” Rich whispers between the two. Michael opens his mouth to reply, but then he continues.

“It’s, like, fuckin’ malfunctioning. It keeps telling me to do shit that's..” Rich shakes his head. “It just won’t leave me _alone_.”

Michael winces, but makes no move to release Rich’s grip. “That’s.. terrible.”

“Yeah, I fucking know,” Rich scoffs, grip tightening on the fabric. “So.. distraction still on the table?” Michael squirms for a moment. “Why do I get the feeling the distraction you want isn’t very _conventional_?” He says.

Rich grins sharply in response. Michael tuts after a beat of silence. 

“Oh my god. Did you really come to my house at midnight to get laid, Rich?” Michael asks, feeling dizzy. His expression twists to accompany his words. 

Rich removes a hand to dramatically place over his heart. “Ugh, you wound me, babe,” He jokes. “Booty calls not your thing?” 

Michael snorts, losing composure. “Shut up. ‘Sides, I’ve never had one. Or been one, in this case. So I don’t know.” 

Rich lights up, pulling Michael closer to himself. “Here’s your chance to find out, then.”

_Well, it couldn’t hurt to accept his offer, right?_


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rich and Michael’s visit to Chloe’s house goes terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning(s): Character Death, mentions of suicide, and referenced underage sex from a missing scene (other typical warnings for this scene of heathers)

Michael makes a soft “ _mmph_ ” sound as he feels light spill onto his face. 

He grips the mass he’s holding onto as he screws his eyes shut harder. 

“Ugh, what the hell..?” He hisses out, convinced that last night’s exchange with Rich was some sort of.. weird weed dream.

That is, until he realizes what exactly his arms are wrapped around. Michael gasps, peeling himself away from the figure he was just entangled with. Rich Goranski.

“Oh my god.” Michael presses his palm into the side of his face, which is flushed.

Suddenly, the boy next to him tenses as his eyes shoot open, and he sits up straight in a split second.

Michael jumps slightly as he stares up at the panicked Rich. “Rich?” He mutters.

The boy in question breathes heavily, and Michael notices for the first time that Rich is shirtless.

Rich’s head snaps to the side to meet Michael’s eyes. “Oh.” Rich says, barely audible. “It was just a dream.” 

Michael blinks, staying silent. Suddenly, he feels very.. bare. He stares down at his own body to find that..

“I’m naked.” He says, a quiet statement.

“Oh.” Rich studies Michael for a moment, making him subconsciously cover his body. “So am I.” He grins, a stark contrast to how he was acting a few moments earlier. “Looks like you know what it’s like to be a booty call now.” He says nonchalantly. He starts putting his clothes back on. 

Michael grabs his glasses. “Oh, shit, I do.” He mutters, flushed. 

Rich turns around, holding Michael’s clothes, and chuckles. “Yeah.” He mutters, tossing the clothing at the boy on the bed. Michael slides his own pants on, almost falling off the bed as he makes his way over to Rich. “Well..” Michael trails off, a short laugh escaping his throat. “I forgot for a second, I guess.” 

Rich snorts. “Seems about right. Now, I gotta go haul ass to Chloe’s.” He says, a slight lisp dancing among the words. 

“Huh? Wait, why?” Michael says. “Well. I accidentally walked in on her having sex with Jake, tried to apologize, but then it ended with..” Rich thinks for a moment. “There’s no better way to put this, but it ended with me puking on her.”

“Oh my god, is that why you came over here?” Michael says, laughter evident in his voice. 

“Mhm. And I’m glad I did.” Rich replies, smirking as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Now, are you coming with me?”

“Um. Why?” Michael asks, reaching for his hoodie. 

“Backup? Maybe she’ll go easy on me if you’re there or something.” Rich explains. It doesn’t really make sense, but he tries anyway.

“I guess..” Michael mumbles, voice muffled by his hoodie as he puts it on.

“Aw. Not sure?” Rich stares fondly at the boy in front of him. He grabs Michael’s cheek, pressing his lips to the other boy’s. “I’ll be there to protect you.” He teases, hand not leaving Michael’s face. 

Michael sighs, eyes locked with the Rich’s. “Fine.” He concedes, voice hushed.

“Great! Let’s go then.” Rich moves his hand from Michael’s cheek, gripping his hand instead. 

“Uh.. by the way, I don’t know if it was obvious, but,” Michael hums. “You were my first.” 

Rich silently smiles to himself as he pulls Michael out of the basement.

..

“How’re we supposed to get in?” Michael asks. They’re both approaching the door to Chloe’s house, which is obviously locked. 

Rich holds his hand up in a ‘wait’ motion and grabs a key from a hidden spot between the door and the wall.

“Like this.” He replies, unlocking and pushing open the door. They only take a few steps before spotting Chloe laid out on the couch.

“ _Chloe_ ,” Rich drawls, shooting a quick glance at Michael. “Wake up, I’m here to apologize for throwing up all over you.”

Chloe hisses, sitting up against the couch arm. “How sweet, but I won’t accept it until you make me a Prairie Oyster, bitch.”

Michael blinks as he follows Rich along into the kitchen. “Um. What’s in a Prairie Oyster..” He mutters, reaching for the cupboard.

“I’ll get it. I’ve done this a lot.” Rich says, pushing Michael’s arm away gently as he grabs a mug. “Oh. Of course,” Michael says. “It’s a cure for a hangover, right?”

“Yeah.” Rich answers. He stops as he’s about to grab the hot sauce, and he lets out a quick laugh. “Actually, there’s probably a better solution to her hangover.” 

Michael returns the laugh lightly. “What’s that?” He says, not looking up from his feet.

Rich opens up a cabinet beneath the sink and pulls something out. “Right here.” Rich sets the item down on the counter, catching Michael’s attention.

“Uh. What?” Michael says.

On the counter sits a bottle of drain cleaner.

“Come on, don’t be a dick, Rich. I know she can probably be a lot to deal with, but that would kill her.”

“And that would end her hangover, right?” Rich says, twisting off the cap and pouring into the mug.

Michael doesn’t respond, hands gripping the counter behind him.

“Aw. You scared?” Rich jokes, tapping on the cup.

“Stop.” Michael says, looking away.

Rich immediately frowns, backing away from the cleaner. “Okay. I’m sorry.” He relents, continuing the making of the Prairie Oyster.

“There. One safe hangover cure.” Rich says, sighing as he finishes it off.

“Thank you.” Michael says, sounding more relieved.

“Hey.. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, ” Rich smiles, stepping closer to kiss the other boy.

“Prairie Oyster! Come _on_!” Chloe shouts from the living room.

Rich grabs a mug from the counter before pulling away. “Well, time to suck up to Chloe.” He teases, hand sliding down to grab Michael’s.

“Guess so.” Michael says weakly, still thinking about Rich’s idea from earlier.

As they approach the couch again, Chloe soon notices them. “Oh, good morning, Chloe.” Rich snarks, holding out the mug.

“Rich,” Chloe says, mirthless. Then her gaze focuses on Michael. “And antisocial headphones kid, what a pleasure.”

Michael avoids eye contact, flushing under her watch.

“Valentine. Stop, I’m.. just here to apologize.” Rich hisses out.

Chloe stares at Michael, unamused, before huffing and turning back to Rich. “Okay, do it then.”

Rich rolls his eyes before putting on a sarcastic smile. “I’m so sorry for puking on you, Chloe. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Chloe returns his expression, marching over and pulling the mug from his hand. “Great. Now let’s hope you can make a good Prairie Oyster.” She muses, tipping the cup back immediately.

Her eyes shoot open as she begins to choke; Violent coughing fills the room as the two boys watch, unable to speak.

Michael watches in horror as Chloe slowly begins to stop breathing, trying to choke out more words, falling to the floor.

She stays silent. 

Rich and Michael stand in quiet shock before Rich speaks up.

“..Holy _shit_.” He says, eyes locked on the body.

“Oh my god.” Michael mumbles, stepping forward to gently grab the mug.

He looks into it, then gasps.

“ _Oh my god!_ ”

Blue liquid spills out of the mug as he drops it. “Holy shit! Rich, don’t just _stand_ there! Call 911 or something!” He cries.

“I think it’s a little bit late for that, Michael.” Rich replies, kneeling down next to him.

“Fuck!” Michael exclaims. “We just _killed_ Chloe Valentine! God, we’re screwed—”

“Now, wait, Michael. I’m sure there’s something we can do..” Rich mutters. After a moment, he lifts his head up. “I’ve got an idea.” 

Michael turns his head to him, weak. “What?” He asks, worried for the answer.

The last idea he had didn’t turn out so well, obviously

“We can fake a suicide note!” Rich says.

“What?! No!” Michael protests. 

“ _No?_ Look, it’s either that or we’re going to jail!” Rich responds, staring into Michael’s eyes desperately.

Michael takes a shaky breath in and sighs. “You’re right..” He breathes. “Okay, okay.. w-what do we do?”

Rich grabs Michael’s hand gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” He says. “I can probably fake her handwriting.” He taps his head, alluding to the SQUIP. 

Michael’s eyes drift over to the body, at the blue liquid trailing out of her mouth, and a sudden laugh bursts out of him, empty.

“This is so fucked up.” He says, forcing his eyes away and shutting them.

“I know, Michael. But we have no other choice.” Rich replies, kneeling back down with a pen and paper. “Okay, what should we write?”

Michael blinks, mind blank. “Uh.. um..” He stammers. “You’d know what she’d say, right? You knew her?” He winces at the use of past tense.

Rich nods, unfocused. After a couple minutes, he opens the pen with a click.

“ _I had pain in my path, like Sylvia Plath. My problems were myriad—_ “ Rich stops in the middle of speaking, narrowing his eyes. 

“Isn’t that a little too.. rhyme-y for a suicide note?” Michael says, voice strained as he stumbles over the word ‘suicide’.

“Maybe. But I was just..” Rich groans, about to rip the paper out of the notebook, then he stops. 

“You okay..?” Michael asks. 

“Yeah, yeah. I just thought, ‘Chloe wouldn’t use myriad because she didn’t know what that meant a week ago’,” Rich explains. 

“But, I realized it could help us. Here, she used it as evidence why she felt she wasn’t good enough.” He gestures to the words for emphasis.

Michael stares at the letter for a moment. “Alright..” He mutters. 

He _really_ doesn’t feel well.

Rich stays silent, placing the pen to the paper to write more.

_“Dear world, believe it or not, I knew about fear. I knew the way loneliness stung.”_ He says out loud. _“I had to hide behind my perfect smile and my sexy clothes. I learned to kiss boys to prove I was worthy.”_

Michael nods. “Okay.. That sounds, uh, sufficient?”

Rich breathes out a laugh. “Thanks. But we’re gonna need more than that.” He continues to write.

_“But, under everything, the world was holding me back. It felt like a concrete prom queen crown was constantly weighing me down.”_

Michael sat besides Rich, pointedly looking away from Chloe’s body. To him, it seemed to speak with Rich.

_“No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings or insecurities.. nobody ever saw who I really was inside.”_

Michael shivers, concerned by how realistic this fake suicide note was.

After several more minutes of writing, Rich signs the note, tears the paper out of the pad and places it next to Chloe, folded.

“Okay. There we go.” He mutters. 

“Do you think this’ll actually work?” Michael asks, quiet standing close to Rich. 

“There’s a very good chance.” Rich replies, sounding mechanical. “Let’s go.”

He grabs Michael’s hand and leads him out of the house.

Leaving the body and the suicide note alone in the silent house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I love these characters, guys


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the guilt begins to set in

Immediately after arriving at his house, Michael rushed to the basement. He was surprised he didn’t actually throw up.

He’d just witnessed a murder.

The horrible, terrible, awful murder of an innocent woman. That he had assisted. 

He absolutely dreaded going to school the next day, doing nothing but laying in his bed, kept awake.

Now today, he’s approaching the school, shaking. Worried he’s going to be found out, cornered, taken in by a police officer for the crime he’d abetted. 

He tried yesterday to tell himself he didn’t help in murdering Chloe, but that didn’t soothe him.

He may not have directly killed her, but he certainly helped cover the murder up.

And that is still very much an arrestable offense.

He steps in, taking in the students standing at their lockers. They look upset. Did they know? Already?

Michael tries to calmly walk past them and gratefully steps to his locker.

Then, he hears a conversation next to him.

“Can you believe Chloe killed herself?” A voice said, hushed.

Michael tenses, hiding his face behind the locker.

“I know, I thought she was so.. put together. And perfect.”

Michael clenches his jaw, gripping the locker door.

This is it. This is the absolute worst day of his life. 

The worst thing he’s ever done in his _entire_ life.

He sighs out sharply as the bell rings. Well, he’s certainly not ready for this shitshow of a day to continue, but he treads on to his classroom anyway. 

In every single class, they had addressed Chloe’s death in one way or another. Be it a long, dreadful explanation, or a short, uncomfortable one.

Michael saw Rich between classes, but neither of them initiated any contact. As Michael steps out of his last class, he hears staff speaking amongst each other and to a couple police offers.

“..and have you even read the note? It really speaks about Chloe.” Mrs. Rayburn fusses.

She begins to read it out loud, and Michael visibly recoils.

“ _They couldn’t see past my perfectly arranged outfits and hot girl mystique, and they never wanted to make eye contact. What they never saw was a girl who was terrified and cried herself to sleep as soon as she was left alone._ ”

Michael shuts his eyes, spinning on his heel to walk away when he bumps into somebody.

He opens his eyes reluctantly to see Rich standing in front of him.

“God, Rich,” Michael breathes. “This is fucking awful.”

Suddenly, he begins to feel sick again.

Rich shushes him and grabs his arm. “I know,” He says quietly. “But as long as you don’t show any signs, we’ll be fine.”

Michael parts his lips slightly before sighing. “I.. you’re right.” He says. “But—“

A voice cuts through their conversation. “Hell, everybody gets tomorrow off!”

All the students around them that were exiting the school excitedly cheer, on their way to rush out of the doors.

“Now, wait, students!” Mrs. Rayburn raises her voice. Everybody stops, confused.

She gives a stack of papers to the other teacher, giving him instructions to pass them out.

As they got to Michael, he suddenly began to feel weak. It was the suicide note.

“This is just getting worse every second.” He mutters, hand clenching the paper.

He looks up, scanning the students. Instinctively, his eyes lock onto Jeremy, and he tenses. Right, of course, he forgot about that other situation. 

Ugh, you know what, that doesn’t matter right now. It’s not the top priority on his mind anymore.

The murder he’d abetted was much more threatening. He can’t deal with both things at a time. 

Michael took in a deep breath, aware of Rich’s hand still resting on his arm. 

_“No one ever believes that pretty girls have feelings, which is fair. I never was the most empathetic person. I weep for everything that I failed to be. Nice, caring, pure. Leaving the world will help everybody. Maybe that’s the me inside of me.”_

“I never knew how much pain she felt.” It was Brooke Lohst who spoke up, tone hushed and dripping with sadness.

“I guess she wasn’t as cruel as we thought, deep down.” Somebody says in the crowd.

“Wow.. I didn’t know she felt she had to hide herself like that.” That sounded like Jake.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks Michael.

His eyes shoot up from the letter, panicked. “I.. what?” He stammers. 

“You look a little pale.” It’s Mrs. Rayburn. Shit. 

Everybody in the crowd is looking at him. _Shit_.

“I-I’m fine!” He says, a little too loud. “I’m just.. so shocked about Chloe’s.. suicide.” He lies. He can feel everybody’s stare all around him.

Mrs. Rayburn sighs. “We all feel this way, hon. We’re all going through this.” She says softly. “And Chloe would be proud of every one of you for being so brave.” She gestures to everybody at once.

Most of their stares have worn off, but a few are still lingering. This _really_ sucks. 

“Everyone is free to go home!” Mrs. Rayburn announces.

The students cheer again, rushing out of the school. 

Rich rubs Michael’s arm, breaking him out of space. “C’mon. Let’s go to my house.” He says, running his hand down to grab Michael’s.

Michael blinks for a moment, noticing that everyone left. “Uh.. okay.” He agrees, reluctant.

After all, they were.. in this together. 

Rich grins, despite the situation, and pulls Michael out of the school with him.

And as they left, Michael seemed to see Chloe standing at the exit, staring at them with her empty eyes.

* * *

“At a time like this, I’ve found myself thinking about all the good times Chloe and I shared.” Brooke says, voice hushed and staticky over the news microphone. “Like.. when we got our ears pierced at the mall together.”

Michael winces, body pressed against Rich’s on the other boy’s couch. “Can we change the channel?” He asks. 

Rich silently clicks a button, fulfilling the request.

Brooke’s face shows up on the screen again.

“I can still hear those phone call conversations we used to have late at night. They were so fun-“

Off Michael’s tense reaction, Rich quickly changes it again.

This time, Jenna shows up. 

“I knew everything about everybody at school. I can’t believe she felt like this.” She muses. “I feel like she had to hide to—“

The TV goes black as Rich turns it off. “God— how many networks is this going to be on?” Michael groans, knowing that every single damn news network in New Jersey would be reporting on this.

That’s what scared him.

Rich turns his head to look at the boy next to him, opening his mouth to reply, then somebody walks in. “Oh. Dad.” Rich says, annoyed. “Did you finally wake up?” He sneers. 

“Yeah.” His father says back. “Were you going to introduce me to your new friend?” 

Michael stares at his legs, uncomfortable with the tension. Rich pulls the same sarcastic smile that he did when he was talking to Chloe.

“I’m sorry. This is Michael. He’s my-” He stops, smirking, his tone challenging. “Boyfriend.”

Michael’s heart skips a beat at that title, to his embarrassment. 

He’d helped him commit a crime somebody, damn it!

A tense silence filled the room. “Great.” Rich’s dad says, voice tight. “You want a..” He holds up a beer can. 

“Um..” Michael starts, awkward. “It’s a bit early?”

Rich narrows his eyes, arm securely around Michael’s waist. “Yeah. So, you can probably just..” Rich’s dad takes the hint, but stays firm, standing before them. “So he’s good, straight-laced boy, huh?” 

Michael looks down, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” Rich says, sarcasm dripping in his tone. “Michael was just leaving.” He pulls Michael up by the hand, standing up.

“Just having some fun, relax.” His dad says. “Sit down.” 

“Uh, actually,” Michael says. “I really should be going now. My moms are probably wondering where I am..”

Rich’s dad stays silent for a beat, then hums lowly, “Uh-huh.” 

Michael squirms for a moment. “Yeah. So, um..” He mutters. “See you tomorrow, Rich.” 

His hand lingers in Rich’s for a moment before he lets go, leaving the house.

Jesus. Rich’s dad is definitely not _wedding speaker_ material.

* * *

Michael walks into his house, sighing in relief. That was.. tense, at best.

“Hey there.” His mom says. 

He jumps, head snapping up to look at her. “Hey.” He awkwardly waves.

Since the.. _incident_ with Chloe, he had barely spoken to them. He didn’t think he could.

“I’ve barely seen you, Micah.” She notes. “Are you doing okay?” 

Michael takes a shaky breath before huffing out a small laugh. “Yeah, of course.” He replies.

His mama steps in, frowning. “Are you sure?” She asks. “You’re acting very off lately. We’re worried.” 

Michael pauses for a moment, guilt consuming him.

“Yes. I’m fine, mom.” He replies, smiling in what he hoped to be a convincing manner.

Both his moms study him before his mama sighs. “Okay. If you say so,” She says. “Just.. tell us if something is wrong, alright, Michael?”

He nods. “Okay.” He says, voice wobbling slightly.

He hurriedly makes his way down to the basement before they can say anything else, almost tripping.

As he lays in his bed, he swears he can hear Chloe’s voice in the back of his mind.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rich and michael hunt some jocks

“Woah, watch where you’re going!” 

Michael looked up, having just bumped into somebody. Jake Dillinger.

Michael suddenly feels sick. This felt way too familiar to his interaction with Chloe mere days ago.

“I’m sorry..” He mutters, wondering to himself how Jake could go back to acting this way just a couple days after Chloe’s death. 

“Get near me again, and you’ll regret it.” Jake says, his tone threatening as he shoves Michael.

Maybe he’s acting out due to grief, Michael thinks to himself.

That makes him feel worse.

The whole time, Dustin Kropp is standing next to him, accompanying Jake’s threats with his own glares at Michael. He laughs as Jake pushes Michael into the locker behind him. 

“Loser.” Jake says under his breath. He walks away, Dustin in tow.

“Just what I needed to be added onto my life.” Michael said to himself, hissing as he rubs his arm. 

“What was that?” Rich’s voice startles Michael, who looks up in surprise. 

“Uh.” Michael blinks. “Huh?”

“Were Jake and Dustin bothering you?” Rich reiterates, his voice scarily level. 

“Yes, they were.” Michael answers truthfully, concerned. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Rich says, scowling subtly. “What was Jake saying to you? Are you hurt?” His tone is dangerous.

“Just to stay out of his way. Uh, the shove wasn’t that bad.” Michael replies, quiet.

Rich steps closer to Michael, eyes narrowed. “ _Not that bad_?” He repeats. “You seemed pretty scared to me.”

Michael flushes, embarrassed. “Um. No, I- I mean, I wasn’t scared,” He says. “Intimidated, maybe.” 

“Right, after that shove,” Rich mutters. “Come with me, yeah? Let’s skip the rest of the day.” He offers. 

Michael’s brows shoot up. “Skip?” He echoes.

Rich scoffs, smiling. “It’s not gonna be the worst thing you’ve done, babe.” He says. “Come on, it’ll be fine.” He holds his hand out for Michael to take.

Michael resents the ‘ _worst thing he’s done_ ’ comment, but takes his hand anyway. He certainly wasn’t enjoying the school day.

Rich grins, an idea seeming to dance in his eyes as he pulls Michael away to sneak out of the school.

* * *

The two boys had resolved to watch TV for a good portion of the day, but that got boring fairly quickly. 

So, Rich guides Michael into his bedroom.

He sits next to Michael on the bed, holding his phone. 

“What’s that for?” Michael leans his cheek against his knees, drawn up to his chest. He looks at the phone, wary.

_What is Rich planning?_

“Okay, here’s my plan,” Rich starts after a pause. Michael nervously plays with his tangled curls. 

“I’m gonna call Jake and ask if he wants to meet me at the cemetery at dawn.”

Michael tilts his head. “Why?” 

Rich turns his head to look at the other boy. “I’ll tell him that I’m going to try and trick you into coming with me so we can,” Rich stops, tone regretful. “Uh, mess you up. You know what I mean.”

Michael’s expression twists slightly.

“Not really, though. That’s not gonna happen.” Rich adds quickly. “It’s _them_ that we’ll be fucking with.”

Michael furrows his brows, eyes searching Rich. “How?” He asks, the rest of the response obvious.

_This better not be another murder._

“I’ll explain after. Trust me, Michael.” Rich says, staring intently into Michael’s eyes.

Michael tuts. “..Okay.” 

Rich smiles in lieu of a response, opening Jake’s contact on his phone.

Michael quietly watches from the side, still uncertain. It takes only a few seconds for Jake to pick up. 

“‘Sup?” He says; Michael can only slightly hear his voice.

“Hey, Jake.” He responds, voice level. “Just had an idea, and wanted to see if you were interested.”

Michael listens to the conversation as closely as he can, drawing his knees impossibly closer to his chest in anticipation.

“Huh...” Jake hums out. “What is it?” He asks.

“I saw you hassling headphones kid today, and I thought maybe we could escalate that.”

At least he sounds hesitant.

Michael can barely hear Jake, but he can still practically hear a smirk in his voice.

“Sounds like a good idea already,” He notes. “How?”

Rich connects his and Michael’s hands together before replying, “I’m going to trick him into thinking I’m inviting him to hang out at the cemetery together, and once we get there, you and Dustin can come out and..”

He trails off, knowing Jake will get the point. 

“Okay. Dustin’s coming with?” Jake asks. Rich rolls his eyes, and Michael smiles subtly at the action. 

“Yeah. Oh, hey, count to three before doing anything to him. It’ll make it that much more confusing.” Rich says, cringing. “This is gonna be _great_. Bring Dustin to the cemetery at dawn and we can go from there.”

After some more confirmations and goodbyes, Rich hangs up. “Okay, that’s taken care of.” He mutters, running fingers through his hair. 

“What’s the rest of the plan?” Michael asks patiently. Rich huffs out a fond laugh, standing up. 

“Follow me.” He says vaguely, pulling on Michael’s hand gently. 

Michael stares at him suspiciously for a moment before complying, standing up and letting Rich lead him down the hall, past his sleeping father, and to his garage.

He pulls a box out from under a table, letting go of Michael’s hand as he opens it up. Michael waits patiently, and a bit anxiously, as Rich searches for something.

After a few moments, he seems to find what he was looking for and pulls a couple items out. 

Michael gasps quietly as he identifies what exactly they are.

He hates that he was fascinated by the two guns being held by his boyfriend. 

“Are.. are those real?” He asks, his tone cautious. 

“Yeah,” Rich says easily. “But, we’re putting a special kind of bullet in them.” He adds on. “They’re called ‘ _Ich Lüge_ ’ bullets.”

Michael frowns. “ _Ich_.. what?”

Rich trails a finger across one of the guns lightly. “I was told my grandad got them during the war. They contain a powerful tranquilizer that can knock somebody out for an indefinite period of time.”

Michael lights up slightly in interest.

“Which means we can use them to knock Jake and Dustin out just long enough to make it look like a suicide pact. And it wouldn’t be complete without a fake suicide note.”

Rich pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, putting the guns on the table, and reads the paper out loud.

_“Jake and I died because we had to hide our gay forbidden love from a disapproving world. Signed, Dustin Kropp and Jake Dillinger.”_

After finishing, Rich picks up the weapons and offers one over to Michael, who takes it, albeit hesitantly.

“This seems risky, Rich.”

“They deserve this. They’re pricks, they deserve to be humiliated.” Rich replies, smirking. “So, what do you say?”

Michael stares down at the weapon in his hands. “..Let’s go hunt some jocks.”

* * *

Michael shifts on his feet, waiting for Jake and Dustin to show up, looking through the mist of early dawn.

Rich was hiding behind a tree for the right moment, looking for the other two boys as well.

Two figures appear in the mist, and Michael breathes in, hiding his gun behind his back.

“Oh,” Michael starts with faux-ignorance, Jake and Dustin appearing in earshot. “Where’s Rich? Why are you two here?”

They both smirk, not hiding their laughter well. “What a fuckin’ loser.” Dustin says. “We don’t know where Rich is, but I think we can start this anyway.”

He starts to advance on Michael, who instinctively backs up on one foot. 

“Wait, dude,” Jake mutters, smirk still playing on his lips. “Count of three, remember?”

Michael makes sure to tilt his head in false confusion, trying to sell that he has no idea what’s going on. 

“Right.” Dustin nods.

They start to count.

“One..”

Rich steps out from the tree.

“Two..”

He pulls the gun out.

He steps next to Michael, signaling for him to pull his gun out too. 

“Three.” Rich finishes for them, smirking. 

He fires the gun, and the bullet goes straight through Jake’s chest.

Michael attempts to shoot at Dustin, but misses, the bullet flying past him.

“Holy crap!” Dustin cries, staring horrified at Jake, who’s now facedown on the ground. 

He shoots a panicked look at Michael and Rich before sprinting past them. “You killed my friend!” He yells as he passes them.

Michael’s eyes drift back over to Jake, who is eerily still.

“Stay there, I’ll get him.” Rich says. “ _Dustin_!” He starts to chase him.

“You killed Jake!” Dustin repeats, voice panicked.

After hearing the fear in Dustin’s voice, Michael walks over to Jake, his own fear rising.

“Jake?” His voice is shaky as he lightly taps him with his foot. 

“ _Jake_?” He drops his gun and kneels down to try and shake him into consciousness.

“No, you're just- you’re just unconscious, right? You’re not dead, you’re-“ As he’s talking, he turns Jake over from his facedown position.

He immediately stops rambling as soon as he sees the gunshot wound through his heart.

The _heavily bleeding_ gunshot wound.

Michael lets out a choked gasp as he checks his pulse for even a single heartbeat, but there’s nothing. Not a single movement or breath.

Michael removes his hand from Jake’s neck as if it were burned, panic setting in. 

_Oh my god, he’s dead!_

“Why are you fucking chasing me?!” Dustin shouts. 

Michael turns his head quickly at the sound, his left hand still clutching Jake’s jacket. 

He lets go, following the sound of the voice to find Dustin trying to climb over a fence.

“Get off the damn fence!” Rich shouts back, aiming his gun at Dustin. 

“I don’t understand!” Dustin cries, hand slipping off the chain of the fence uselessly.

Rich shoots him a patronizing smile. “Let me explain this to you, then. You know dinosaurs, right? You know how an asteroid killed them all?” He says, voice falling lower. 

He smirks, “Chloe was a dinosaur. You and Jake are dinosaurs. And Michael and I?” He presses dangerously close to the trigger. “We’re the asteroid.”

“What?!” Dustin exclaims. “What does that mean? _You_ killed Chloe?!” Rich responds with a bullet, pulling the trigger.

Yet again, the bullet goes straight through the heart.

Michael watches, horrified, as Dustin falls off the fence, immediately laying still and silent.

Blood already starts to pour profusely from the wound.

“What the fuck, Rich?!” He cries. 

Rich lowers the gun with a look of satisfaction and relief. He steps closer to Michael, holding his face gently.

“I didn’t want them to hurt you. Now they can’t anymore.”

Michael starts to feel sick once again. “You killed them. You told me it wouldn’t kill them.” He says quietly, voice threatening to break. 

“I know,” Rich shushes him. “But I had to. Our love is God. Our actions offset people like Jake or Chloe or Dustin. The people who do no good for the world.”

He strokes Michael’s cheek with his thumb. “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling. Chaos is good.” 

Michael subtly leans into his touch, hesitant. “What do you mean?” He asks, quiet. Rich moves a hand up to stroke Michael’s hair.

“Our love balances everything out.” Rich affirms, leaning forward enough to kiss the other boy.

“Let’s get out of here, before somebody finds us.” He mutters, pulling away slightly.

“I..” Michael’s expression twists, face flushed. “Okay.” His voice comes out as a whisper.

_Our love is God._


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dear Diary,_
> 
> _I’ve been going steady, I guess._
> 
> _Rich is pretty great, if you ignore his criminality.  
> _

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I’ve been going steady, I guess. Rich is pretty great,_ _if you ignore his criminality._

_So far, he and I have offed three of our classmates. It feels awful to write that down on paper, but at least it’s definitely not as bad as saying it out loud._

_Rich told me that we were going to use ‘Ich Lüge’ bullets. When I got home, I looked up what that meant._

_And guess what? It means ‘I’m lying’ in German.  
_

_God, have mercy on my soul. If you’re there, please wake me up from this nightmare._

* * *

Jake and Dustin’s families decided to do a joint funeral considering the, uh, _relationship_ that their sons had shared.

Or, the one they thought they’d shared. 

Next to each of their caskets, their football helmets sit on a table. The two boys are dressed in black suits and orange ties, to match the headgear.

Friends and family of Jake and Dustin fill the pews, Michael and Rich sitting closely next to each other, their arms brushing together. 

“I don’t know if there’s any way you can hear me,” Dustin’s father says, wearing a matching suit to his son’s. “But, Dustin, I don’t care if you were a pansy. You’re my flesh and blood and I was always very proud of you.”

Jake’s parents actually showed, which is surprising, considering that they were on the run for money laundering. Jake had always said that, anyway. 

Jake’s father made a similar statement to Dustin’s, stating that _even though he was barely there, he was proud of him_. Jesus.

Rich snickers quietly next to Michael, making him turn his head. “How do you think they’d react if their ‘pansy sons’ were here right now?” Rich remarks.

Despite himself, Michael actually laughs for a second, leaning into the other boy slightly. 

The small laugh could probably be passed off as a soft sob by most anybody, but Michael sees somebody turn anyway. 

Amusement falls from his expression as he realizes who had just turned to look into his eyes.

Jeremy.

Michael straightens, leaning away from Rich completely. It may seem conspicuous, but he doesn’t really care.

He looks down at his feet, hoping Jeremy doesn’t suspect any foul play. But he knows he heard him laugh, obviously that’s why he turned around. It doesn’t hurt to try and do some damage control, though.

After a few minutes, he looks up again to see that Jeremy turned back around. He sighs in relief, his fingers linked with Rich’s, as he patiently waits out the rest of the funeral.

For the two boys he’d helped murder.

He shuts his eyes, trying to shove the guilt out of his mind.

Michael could swear he thought he saw Jake and Dustin standing next to the caskets, but that must’ve just been his imagination. It had to be.

“I love my dead gay son!” Dustin’s father confesses. 

Michael’s eyes open at that, and the two boys are gone.

* * *

Michael rubs his crossed arms, feeling the breeze hit him as he steps out of the building. 

“Well,” Rich starts, arm around Michael’s waist. “They were certainly more tolerant towards them than I thought they’d be. Maybe they’re trying to keep a good image?”

Michael doesn’t answer. 

“What’s wrong?” Rich prompts. Immediately, Michael accuses, “Why did you lie to me?”

“What are you talking about?”

Michael gives Rich a look of exasperation. “You know what I mean.” He mutters. “You told me those bullets wouldn’t kill them. ‘Ich Lüge’... ‘I’m lying’? Really?”

Rich takes a moment before replying. “What happened?” He asks. “You weren’t acting like this before when you cuddled up to me.” 

Michael scowls. “Stop. I wasn’t-“ He stops, wincing. “I don’t have to explain myself.” 

Rich smirks, pulling Michael back into his side. “You and I both know you _can’t_ explain yourself.” He says. “You wanted them dead too, you were lying to yourself.”

Michael makes an affronted noise. “Stop. No, I didn’t!” He whispers fiercely. 

Heads turn to look at him, but he doesn’t notice. “Okay, relax,” Rich holds a hand up, backing down. “Let’s just go back to my house, yeah?” 

Michael takes a deep breath before conceding, “Alright.”

* * *

“It seems these suicides at Middleborough High are making this town stronger than ever!” A reporter says on the TV. “Of course, all of our love and support goes out to the parents of these tragic—“

Rich turns the TV off, silent. “Well, you can’t say we don’t get results from what we’re doing.” He grins, facing the boy at his side.

Michael rolls his eyes, pushing himself off Rich. “You don’t have to be so smug about it.” He remarks, turning away and resting a hand on his cheek. “Hey,” Rich says gently. “Don’t worry. Your love keeps me humble.” He turns Michael’s head back towards himself and kisses him. 

Michael pulls away after a few seconds, staying silent. Rich frowns, but shakes his head. “So, who’s next?”

Michael shoots a glare at Rich, upset. “What?” He asks quietly.

“Brooke Lohst? She was close with Chloe, you know.” Rich says, ignoring Michael’s question.

“No!” Michael protests. “She’s actually nice!”

Rich huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, she can be as much of a handful as Chloe, if you give her the—“

“No! Stop!” Michael shouts. “We’ve already killed _three_ people! I can’t believe you’re still looking for people to murder! This ends right now.” His voice comes out quieter at the end.

Rich twitches slightly. “Or what?” He challenges. “I’ll break up with you.” Michael’s tone matches Rich’s.

Rich’s hand brushes against Michael’s waist. “Every war has casualties, you know.” He mutters. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight them.” 

Michael stays silent, eyes locked with the other boy’s.

“Would you rather go to jail, then? Michael, that’d give the evil sons of bitches out there a chance to hurt innocent people!” Rich says, breath picking up.

There’s silence for a moment.

“Rich?” Michael’s voice is barely above a whisper. “Is your SQUIP.. bothering you right now?” 

Rich clenches his jaw, but nods anyway. “I’m sorry.. I forgot that it..” Michael trails off. 

Rich brings a hand to Michael’s cheek and lifts his head up. “It’s alright. It gives me clarity.” He says. “It says that you and I are special, that we have work to do.”

Michael shoots him a concerned look. “What work?” He asks, suddenly feeling sick again. 

“Making the world a decent place for decent people!” Rich says, as if it were obvious.

“When does it end?” Michael asks, voice rising to match Rich’s volume.

“When every asshole in the world is dead!” Rich shouts. 

Michael pushes Rich away from him, recoiling.

“Rich! I know we’re both damaged, especially you, but that doesn’t make us different from anybody else!” Michael says. “We don’t get to choose who lives and who dies. That’s not for us to decide.” 

Rich doesn’t say anything, seemingly in his own head. Michael sighs and moves closer to Rich again, cautious and careful.

“Let’s just.. be normal. Have a normal relationship. You know, going out on normal dates that don’t end in somebody dying.”

Rich blinks a couple times before looking at Michael again, with less tension in his eyes. 

Michael, in response, sighs in relief. “You’re here, you’re okay.” He reassures.

Rich still says nothing, worrying at his lip.

Michael moves closer again. “Hey. You don’t have to kill somebody every time they just look at me wrong,” He sighs. “Trust me, I know none of this will turn back time. Jake and Dustin and Chloe.. they’re not coming back. But we can change what we do now.” 

Rich nods, eyes locking onto Michael’s. “You’re right.” He takes a deep breath.

Michael grins brightly. “Thank fuck.” He says in relief. Rich smiles slightly, pulling Michael in closer by the waist. 

“Let’s just be seventeen, okay?” Michael suggests. “Let’s do things normal seventeen year olds do in a relationship.”

“What? Like this?” Rich pulls him in closer, pressing his lips to the other boy’s. They kiss for a few moments before Michael pushes him away gently. 

“Exactly.” He chuckles. “It’s good to see you back to normal, Rich.” 

Rich just grins again, pulling Michael back in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy I’ve never written anything like this, so this may be inaccurate in certain parts when it comes to the more graphic scenes
> 
> Don’t judge me too much, I apparently just like writing my favorite characters going through shit
> 
> I’ll be updating this while also posting for Fictober, so we’ll see how this goes


End file.
